Everyone's Money Is Not the Same Color Saturday, August 8, 2009

I usually try to keep things lighthearted here on PinkBroom. But of course, wedding planning isn't just about "wedding planning"... it's about the experience of being engaged, the transformative process, about the things you learn and the people you encounter along the way. I love being engaged, but it isn’t without its difficulties. Unfortunately, the planning process has been marred by the issues I’ve experienced with some wedding vendors.

I’ve run into several vendors or bridal industry associates who subscribe to at least one of the following: (a) people will, consciously or not, steer you toward the type of wedding they think you should have; (b) a wedding is considered by many to be a reflection of class, or of your "station;" (c) high fashion is available only to the thin, the white, and the elite; and (d) the great Bridal Industry fallacy that black women don't get married and when we do, we're to be completely ignored.

All four of these showed themselves in my appointment at the dressmaker's today. I was initially very excited, because this particular lady is one of the best in Dallas. She's known for doing impeccable work. She can copy a dress from a picture; she can rebuild a dress your seamstress butchered; she can modify, change, or adapt anything. Maybe this could be it!

But it was not to be. After meeting the shop owner (also the dressmaker in question) and watching her smile fade upon seeing me, it was obvious that she didn’t want to work with me. Several judgmental minutes passed, where she immediately spat her astronomical prices at me (I didn’t flinch – I’d done my homework and knew how much she cost), and was unbelievably brusque and dismissive.

Despite my obvious knowledge of fabric and the sewing process, she continued to be rude and generally remind me at every turn that I don’t know anything. By the end of the appointment, she was suggesting that I just wear polyester and ushered me out the door – but not before increasing her quote by ten percent.

Most people looking at our interaction from the outside wouldn't detect anything but a slight rudeness. But others might be perceptive enough to know better. It didn’t matter how well dressed I was, how articulate or knowledgeable. This woman sized me up, made an assessment, and acted on it. Judging me based on my appearance, rather than on my character or personality? That’s the very definition of prejudice!

The worst type of discrimination is the kind that is subconscious, and if I went back to the shop and spoke to her about it, she'd most likely deny it and be genuinely aghast at any insinuation of unfair treatment. But as a black woman who's dealt with these issues my whole life, I know differently.

From her clientele, it's obvious that she does word-of-mouth business for Dallas's most elite families. The shop is in a very nice area of town, one where there isn't much economic or racial diversity. But I'm not trying to be a member of some in-crowd. I went there because I was naïve enough to want a dress made by one of the best, and to believe that I might be able to have it –with good customer service!— regardless of race or class.

When I meet wedding vendors, I realize that a mutual assessment is taking place. I know I don’t look like the typical Dallas bride: I don’t have my mother with me, I’m not thin, I’m not white, and I’m not particularly young. But I’m always on time to appointments, well-dressed, and articulate about what I am looking for in each aspect of the wedding. And it never seems to be enough.

I’ve run into this in varying degrees at several high end vendors in Dallas: the curious looks, the “What are you doing here?” stares from vendors and their other customers. But never has it been as pronounced as it was today.

Today’s incident is a reflection that the bridal industry is one of the most blatantly discriminatory outfits there is, and that this discrimination adds to its appeal. I think that the bridal industry is so focused on the wedding day as a statement of class and societal position that the idea of a wedding representing a marriage, the idea that every bride deserves to look beautiful on her wedding day, is lost.

As angry as I am at this woman, as hurt as I am personally by her dismissal, I am even angrier at what this represents. I am furious at the idea that someone else can take one look at me and “decide” where I belong. I am angry that people would judge the validity of my marriage based on what type of wedding I might have. I am livid that there are people around who feel it is their job to put me in my “place,” and I am even more upset that someone might willingly reject my business to keep their other prejudiced clients happy. We now have a black man as President and a Latina as a Supreme Court justice. Why is there anyone in the world who still thinks I should be in a “place”?

*The title of the post comes from a favorite saying of great grandmother's, who encountered economically-based racism and would often say, "My money's just as green as anyone else's!"